The Notebook
by awomanontheverge
Summary: Not having someone – not even the memory of them? That was the worst pain imaginable.


**A/N: Written for a Tumblr prompt – **_**Notebook**_**. ****Just a little background, if you haven't seen**_**The Notebook**_**, the male lead, Noah, reads to his wife who has Alzheimer's, Allie, about their love story. Reviews are welcome and appreciated.**

"Are you mad?"

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated sigh. "Am I mad that I spent the last two hours cooking a homemade meal – your _favorite_ meal – only to have you tell me you're 'too busy' to come home? Am I _mad_ that this is the _third_ time this month you've had more important things to do than spend some time with me?" Regina dug her nails into the plastic of her phone. "No, of _course_ not." She gnawed angrily at the inside of her cheek and waited for Emma's next pathetic excuse.

"I'm sorry," Emma responded quietly. "I just-"

"Do what you have to do, Ms. Swan," Regina hissed before moving her thumb up to the touch screen and clicking the 'end call' button. She stared at her phone blankly for a moment. She paused for a moment before chucking the device toward the sofa across the room. A grunt crept up her throat as she stomped toward the kitchen to package up the uneaten dinner.

Regina grabbed a pair of oven mitts from the counter drawer next to the stove and pulled out a black baking pot, throwing it angrily onto the stovetop. The smell of fresh lamb and potatoes permeated the room and the brunette scoffed, wanting nothing more than to leave it outside for the neighborhood dogs. It would be a representation of how much Emma _really_ cared.

Regina wiped angrily at her cheeks with the back of her hand as her eyes betrayed her, a heavy stream of tears trickling down her face. Grabbing a serving spoon, she practically flung the potatoes, lamb and sauce into a Tupperware container, gravy splattering onto the white linoleum counter.

Regina let out an exasperated sigh. She shouldn't be jealous. Emma was just doing her job. She of all people should understand what it's like to have a demanding career. And yet, standing alone in the kitchen, staring out toward the dining room that she had set so purposefully with a vase of roses and apple scented candles, Regina couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal burn deep in her chest.

The brunette threw the container into the back of the refrigerator before walking over to the drink cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of wine – vintage '01 Syrah – then, standing on her tiptoes, reached for a glass from the cupboard above her. Popping the cork with ease, she poured a few splashes into the glass and, after swirling it a moment, brought it up to her lips. The tart liquid tickled and warmed her throat deliciously. Regina closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose.

Holding onto her glass tightly, she made her way back into the living room. She carefully placed her drink onto the table, then grabbed the remote and settled into the leather sofa. Regina clicked the red 'power' button at the top of the clicker. As she waited for the television to warm up, she reached out toward the end of the couch and grabbed a red fleece blanket, wrapping it around herself like a cocoon. It smelled faintly of Emma.

Regina picked up her wine from the table, bringing it up to her mouth and sipping on it absentmindedly as she flipped through the endless channels on her television. Truth be told, she rarely watched the thing. She'd only kept it because Henry had a particular obsession with Spongebob Squarepants when he was younger, and now Emma insisted they watch Grey's Anatomy every Thursday together. Regina didn't see the appeal, but any time with Emma was, in her mind, time well spent. A smile crept up on her face at the thought, then quickly disappeared when she remembered that the blonde had been absent for the last two weeks of the show; _working the night shift_, or something along those lines. Regina couldn't keep the excuses straight anymore. She punched the channel button on the remote a little harder and huffed.

After perusing through over 100 channels, a commercial for ABC Family's 'Saturday Night Movie' caught her eye.

"_From beloved author Nicholas Sparks…ABC Family presents: The Notebook._"

Regina sipped once more on her wine and threw the remote at the end of the sofa. She'd heard of Sparks, but had never read anything of his. The brunette shrugged. Anything to take her mind off of this crappy, _crappy_ night.

-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-S-Q-

Emma glanced at the time on her phone. 11:35pm. She winced. Regina was going to be _pissed_.

Emma had tried to send her girlfriend numerous texts throughout the night, telling her she loved her and that she was sorry for, once again, ruining their night. Not surprisingly, they had gone unanswered. Ruby had recently stepped down as Deputy – it had only been a temporary position and she had expected her leave – and Emma was _swamped_. Still, it was no excuse for neglecting her family and the blonde slumped her shoulders, ashamed.

Fumbling in her pocket for the front door key, Emma let herself in, surprised to see the feint flickering of a television screen dancing across the living room. Regina never watched tv – at least, not when she was alone. The blonde furrowed her brow and stepped quietly into the room, expecting the brunette to have fallen asleep on the couch.

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she heard soft whimpers emanating from the center of the room. Throwing her jacket onto the floor, she shuffled closer and peaked over the couch.

Emma could actually pinpoint the moment her heart broke. There, curled up on the couch with her favorite fleece blanket sprawled over her, was Regina, eyes closed as tears trickled down her face and breath hitching as silent sobs overwhelmed her. Regina was _sobbing_. Because of _her_. Because she didn't have the common sense to put her _girlfriend_ before her job. Emma carefully sunk to her knees in front of the sofa and, trying not to startle the woman in front of her, whispered the brunette's name. "Regina?"

Brown eyes flew open. "Emma?" she hiccupped.

"Yeah," the blonde said soothingly. Her eyes flicked down nervously and she ran her palms across her jeans. "I'm really sorry about tonight. Please don't cr-"

Emma was shocked to feel Regina's arms pulling her into a bone crushing embrace. The brunette nuzzled her wet face into the nape of the younger woman's neck and cried, hot tears soaking Emma's skin. The blonde instinctively brought her hands up to Regina's back and rubbed soothingly. "Hey, it's ok-"

"Promise me," Regina hiccupped, tangling her hands into Emma's tank, grasping her for dear life, as though she would slip away if she let go.

Emma wrinkled her forehead. "I don't know what you're ta-"

"P-promise me y-you won't let me forget you," the brunette cried, her voice cracking.

"Regina, what are you talking abou-"

"W-would you read to me? Like N-Noah did? P-promise me you w-would…"

Emma pulled Regina an arm's length away and stared at her, confused. "Regina, you're not making any-"

"_Promise_ me," Regina cried.

"I…I promise." Emma pulled the older woman close to her and rocked her soothingly, burying her face in brown tresses and inhaling the spicy scent of her shampoo. "Whatever it is, I promise."

Regina nuzzled her nose against Emma's shoulder and let out a shaky breath. She'd take all the memories – the fighting, the lonely nights, the doubt – as long as she could _keep_ them. Because not having someone – not even the _memory_ of them? _That_ was the worst pain imaginable.


End file.
